


The Pack Survives

by sach_a_nerd



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, POV Multiple, Reunions, Slow Build, a whole bunch of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11809329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sach_a_nerd/pseuds/sach_a_nerd
Summary: It's been weeks since Sansa received a raven from Jon at Eastwatch. With no word of his return, Sansa looks for other options to help prepare the North for the Long Night.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got the courage. This is my first fic ever so be kind. This is basically a huge reunion fic. But not everyone will be joining the party at once...  
> Enjoy :)
> 
> Disclaimer: George RR Martin made this world. I'm just doing my take on it.

_Sansa. We are about to march north of the wall at Eastwatch. If I do not return, Winterfell is yours. Stay close to Arya and Bran. Take care. Your brother, Jon._

Sansa read the scroll again. She knows Arya and Bran got one of their own. Bran’s had been similar to hers but Arya didn’t share what was written on hers. The ravens had arrived weeks ago with Jon’s messages but none had come since then.

“Lady Sansa, you are needed at the gate.”

Sansa looked up from her scroll to find her guard nervously swaying on his feet. There was something urgent, almost desperate in his eyes. _Could it be Jon? Was his journey beyond the wall successful?_ With all the composure she could muster, she walked out of her room and down the winding staircase. Sansa then stopped abruptly and turned to her guard who trailed closely behind.

“Where are my sister?”

“My lady, I believe she is sparing with Lady Brienne.”

“And my brother?”

“In the Godswood, my lady.”

“Send for both of them. Tell them to come to the gate.” _Jon would want to see them_.

Sansa waited for her guard to leave before continuing to rush towards the gate. Her breath became ragged as the cold air hit her lungs. A fresh layer of snow had fallen overnight and was yet to be shovelled away from the pathways in the courtyard. Instead of the workers bustling about preparing for the Long Night, the courtyard was lined with soldiers in their full suits of armours. As Sansa walked through the lines of men, she saw that many had their eyes glued to the closed gate while some kept looking up towards the grey sky. As she reached the gate, she found Arya, Brienne and Podrick already there, talking to Lord Glover.

“What is it?” Sansa asked, looking directly at Lord Glover.

“Lady Sansa, It’s the dwarf Lannister. He is outside this gate with a hundred, maybe more savages at his back. He seeks an audience with you.”

Sansa’s heart stopped momentarily. Tyrion. Suddenly a hand grabbed her arm and steered them away from Lord Glover, retreating them to an alcove by the gate. Arya looked up at her sister and still clung to her arm.

“Did he hurt you? Do you want me to kill him?” There was a seriousness to Arya’s whispered voice. A seriousness that still scared her. As something suddenly turned bitter in Sansa’s mouth as she pulled her arm away.

“No!” Sansa hushed back. ”He was the kind and never hurt me.” She walked back towards the gate and asked Lord Glover, “Is the Targaryen Queen with him?”

“No my lady,” Lord Glover looked to towards the sky, “But you can never be sure.”

As the Lady of Winterfell, Sansa saw it as her duty to receive guests, offer them food and shelter and grant them an audience if need be. She could trust him. She could ask him to help her prepare for the Long Night. There was nothing horrible he had done to her. But she did leave him. She left him in the wake of Cersei’s wrath. Would he forgive her?

“Lady Brienne and Arya, please accompany me outside this gate as I wish to greet Tyrion Lannister.”

Suddenly, there was an outcry of disapproval from all parties present, all except one.

“May I remind you all that I am the Lady of Winterfell? If you two will not accompany me, Podrick will since he did not voice his disproval.” Brienne opened her mouth but before she could get a word out, Sansa looked at her sworn sword and said “Please do not worry, Podrick is a dear friend of Tyrion.” Brienne didn’t seem convinced and Podrick looked as though he would jump for joy. The gate opened and a sharp cold gust blew into the courtyard.

“He has waited a long time to see you.” Everyone turned to see Bran and Master Wolkan approaching the gate. Bran stared at her sister with an unfamiliar look, “Best not to keep him waiting.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the coming back!  
> Changed POV.  
> Enjoy :)

*** Tyrion ***

The idea of coming north before was once intriguing to him. When Jon Arryn died and King Robert made the infamous Winterfell his destination, Tyrion leapt at the opportunity to join the party. Even though the thought of those northern women and the northern brothels were at the forefront of his mind, the chance to read the scrolls and books of the Winterfell library and the hope to venture further north to the Wall was promising. Now, his journey north had filled him with uncertainty. It had only been a week after Jon’s last message mentioning his arrival and imminent journey beyond the Wall, when Daenerys patience had run dry.

“Sail to White Harbour and journey to Winterfell” his queen commanded, “I will fly with my children to the Wall.”

He hasn’t heard from Daenerys in weeks.

The Dothraki horde that Daenerys insisted accompanying him north was abnormally silent. These men had never seen snow. After seeing the white blanket that began to cover the lands near White Harbour, it was a certain shock that they never got used to. It was a shock to Tyrion too. He had never seen snow this far south before. Now he stood in front of the gates of Winterfell, with Stark banner men encircled around them. Everyone with weapons in hand, prepared at a word’s notice from the castle walls. He clutched the furs tighter around his body to prevent any warmth from escaping and he prayed that Sansa would open the door.

“Open the gate!” bellowed a man from the rampart above the gate.

To Tyrion, it seemed like a century as he watched those gates open. As to two figures approached him, he thought must be dreaming because the first faces saw were not of unknown soldiers, it was his “wife”, Sansa Stark and his former squire, Podrick Payne.

His legs wouldn’t move. Either, they have frozen already or his mind couldn’t process the sight he saw in front of him to do anything about it. Sansa Stark was a copy of her late mother, Catelyn Stark but even more beautiful since he last saw her last in King’s Landing. While she embodied the grace of Northern Lady, Podrick followed closely behind with a smile so big and a bounce in his step that almost looked like he needed to run and relieve himself at the nearest tree.

“My Lord Tyrion,” said Sansa, “Welcome back to Winterfell. I hope your journey was not too rough?”

“No my lady,” replied Tyrion, “The north has changed since I was here last.”

Sansa looked to Podrick and gave him a small nod. With that, Podrick knelt in front of Tyrion and enveloped him in a warm hug.

“I am glad you’re not dead my lord,” said Podrick.

“So am I,” replied Tyrion, returning the hug. As Podrick stood up, Tyrion looked at Sansa but she stared at the Dothraki behind him. “No harm will come to you or your people, my lady. They are merely here at the request of my Queen, to make sure I do not fall in harm’s way. If they could make camp away from your men, near the Northern Gate. I think it’d be best for everyone.”

Sansa nodded in silent agreement and walked back towards the gate, with Podrick and Tyrion in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just a heads up this is a super optimistic/unrealistic take on the ending of season 7 and start of season 8. Everything is canon till 7x05.  
> This is fic is just to ease my soul from the torment this season and the wait to the next.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back with an early upload. Yay!  
> Please continue leaving comments and kudos. It really makes my day.  
> A heads up - this chapter is a long one. What can I say though? Arya needs this chapter to be long.  
> So enjoy! :)

*** Arya***

Arya didn’t care for politics. It was all so pointless in the scheme of things. One betrays another, then they betray someone else and the wheel continues to turn. She didn’t understand why she needed to break fast with the imp. She’s not the Lady of Winterfell.  She could go back and train some more but Bran refused to let her leave. Arya honestly thought what type of vision could Bran have had to make him force her to stay? Perhaps she’s destined to help Sansa kill the dwarf, the same way they were destined to get rid of Littlefinger. Yet, Brienne was there to protect Sansa if anything were to go wrong. She didn’t need to stay. As Arya was about to quietly remove herself from the great hall before everyone was seated, Bran grabbed her arm.

“Stay.”

If he wasn’t a cripple and her brother, Arya would have snapped his wrist. She shrugged his arm away as the doors closed behind Sansa. Through the large windows, Arya could see Lord Glover pacing back and forth in the snow with his face turned red. Assuming from the constant looks through the window, Lord Glover wanted to know what was going on, yet probably at Sansa’s request remained outside. Arya returned her attention to the room to see everyone now seated.

 A strange uneasiness traveled amongst people in the room. All eyes were set on Tyrion Lannister. Not one soul said a word. Arya’s hand fasten around her dagger. She could see from the corner of her eye that Brienne did the same with Oathkeeper. A Lannister in Winterfell is wrong, even if Sansa endorses him. Arya stepped away from the wall, ready to frighten the little Lannister, when Bran was the first to speak.

“The Lannister family have caused too much pain to the North. But this man is not his father’s son. He does not fight for the Lannister cause like Tywin did.” Bran’s eyes fell to Tyrion. “That’s because he believes in his queen. He is her family.”

Both Sansa and Tyrion looked dumbfounded. Brienne looked slightly uncomfortable. Podrick still looked at Tyrion with the largest smile on his face while Maester Wolkan and Bran was indifferent as ever. Arya was just confused.

“Thank you for those words, Bran. It’s been a long time since I saw you last,” replied Tyrion.

“I’m the three-eyed raven now.”

“Ah, yes. Jon did mention that you have visions. Speaking of Jon, I received word early this morning that Jon and his band of men caught a wight and are sailing down to show it to Cersei.”

Suddenly Arya’s blood ran cold.

“Jon’s going to Kings Landing?!” she asked. “He should go down there alone! Cersei will kill him!”

Tyrion replied,” Queen Daenerys is accompanying him, as well as the Hound, Theon, Varys and Jorah Mormont. Not to mention, all her armies, fleets and dragons will be there. I will also travel down there as soon as Ser Davos and his smith arrives here. Jon asked the smith to begin forging weapons with dragonglass.”

Now it was Arya’s heart that stopped beating. The Hound? Alive? She looked to Brienne to see her just as shocked as Arya was.

“If you don’t mind me asking my lord,” said Brienne quickly snapping out of her disbelief, “Did the ranging party fall into any trouble? It’s just been weeks since we last heard from Jon.”

A sadness fell across the Tyrion’s face and opened his mouth to speak when a guardsman opened the door.

“Pardon me, but there is a Ser Davos waiting for my lady in the courtyard.”

“Thank you, we’ll be out in a moment,” replied Sansa.

Arya remained in her seat and began shoveling down the food on her plate. She looked up briefly see Bran staring at her. Arya was getting annoyed now.

“What?!” she exclaimed.

“You should probably go outside now,” replied Bran, now with the same look he gave Sansa yesterday just before she met Tyrion. Now, more than ever, she was prepared to snap his wrist.

She got up slowly and moved to the door. Arya decided that she would go outside but to head south. Jon needed her. She doesn’t need to greet a knight she hardly knows. A step out the door and Arya was thinking of a plan to escape. The South gate by the smithy is where those two idiot guards were stationed early this morning. The stables are right there too. All she would need is a horse and her bag.

Arya swiftly got her bag from her room and made her way down to the southern gate.  She approached stables with caution and began to saddle up her horse before raising any suspicion.

“You goin’ somewhere, m’lady?”

That voice. Arya turned slowly. Same blue eyes. Shorter brown hair. Same smug grin. Arya swung a punch right into his stomach. Gendry doubled over, clutching the impacted area with one hand and holding out the other as a sign of peace.

“I know I deserved that,” coughed Gendry, “But did you have to hit me so hard?!”

“I thought you were dead.”

“I thought the same of you. I thought you died at the Red Wedding. To your brother was where the brotherhood was going to take you. When we were beyond the wall, Jon mentioned you. He said you were alive and here. In Winterfell.” Gendry took another step closer and then began to whisper. “I didn’t say anything about knowing you. I couldn’t. To explain to him that I left you. That I didn’t protect you. I just couldn’t. I’m sorry, m’lady.”

Then, Arya punched Gendry’s shoulder.

“I don’t need protection,” said Arya.

Again, Arya punched Gendry’s shoulder.

 “Do not call me, m’lady.”

A small laugh escaped Gendry lips as he rubbed his shoulder which caused Arya to smile.

“Stupid Bullhead,” muttered Arya before she jumped up and hugged Gendry. Arya’s arms squeezed tightly as Gendry did the same. “I’m your family so never leave me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This early upload is courtesy of an uplifting comment from Chapter Two. Thanks, Mademoiselle Rhino!  
> Also, just to clear out any confusion - there's a slight time jump. Tyrion has stayed a night at Winterfell.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> Sorry, this took so long to upload. I think I rewatched that finale like 7 times!  
> Another change in POV. I enjoyed writing this one.  
> This man needs to survive this whole series. Honestly, he's the one I'm rooting for.  
> Enjoy :)

***Davos ***

“Lord Glover and Lord Royce will arrange your horses and supplies for your travel down south. Lady Brienne is to accompany you and Lord Tyrion to King’s Landing. She will represent my place at the meeting,” said Lady Sansa, “There’s food still laid out in the Great Hall, please help yourself. I wish to speak Lord Tyrion alone. Please excuse us.”

Davos bowed his head and watched the two walk away. He looked towards the Great Hall and thought against it. He could eat later. Instead, he turned and began to trudge through the snow towards the armoury, best make a quick count of the dragonglass weapons already made. As Davos approached the door, he could hear the sounds of sharpening stone gliding along the edge of swords.

Lady Lyanna Mormont, Lady Alys Karstark and Lord Ned Umber were seated in a circle. Stone in one hand and a sword in another. All eyes fell to Davos, as he passed through the doorway.

“Ser Davos of House Seaworth,” Lady Lyanna greeted him with a small smile.

“My lady,” replied Davos. He looked to the others. They almost look intimidated by his presence. “My lord and my lady have nothing to be frightened of. Although, I am surprised to see you all here. I thought you’d have gone back to your homes to lead your people.”

“The King of the North asked us to train here in Winterfell,” Ned Umber softly replied, “Once we are able to wield a weapon well enough, he said to go home and lead by example for our people to follow.”

“I see,” Davos responded, looking around the group, “So, I hope the training is as well as you’d hope. What are your weapons of choice?”

Ayls was the first to speak, “A bow and arrow, Ser Davos. My aim is far better than my ability to swing a sword.”

“A spear. I am fair when it comes to riding on horseback and I find the spear easier to handle,” stated Ned.

Davos smiled at the young lord and lady. An image of Princess Shireen sitting amongst the little lord and ladies formed in Davos’ mind. Would she have taken up arms to help defend the North? That sweet girl wouldn’t have hurt a fly. If called upon, she would have helped in any way she could. Maybe pick up bow and arrow, just as Lady Alys has done. He turned back to Lady Mormont.

“And how about you, my lady?”

“I once saw Lady Brienne spar with Lady Sansa’s sister, Arya. Her sword was long and thin, and she was quick. I hope to have my smith on Bear Island forge a sword like hers.”

“Then I have some good news for you, My Lady. I have brought a smith from King’s Landing. His work is the best I have ever laid my eyes upon. Some fine craftsmanship, that man has. I will ask him to start forging one for you before I leave. Then you can learn to wield it before you go home.”

Then he added, “And why don’t I ask for some dragonglass arrowheads especially made for you, my lady and a shield to help protect yourself on your horse, my lord?”

“Thank you Ser Davos,” they responded in unity, all with excitement in their eyes.

“Ah, it’s no trouble. I am afraid this is where I’ll have to end our talk,” Davos motions to the armoury around them, “I have weapons to count before I go. If I may be excused?”

Based on Davos’ count, the smiths in Winterfell were making progress, but it was not enough. From what Lady Sansa said earlier in the courtyard, many smiths worked day in and day out but lacked the structure to work efficiently and effectively. Davos suggested Gendry could take charge, assigning smiths to specific tasks to help, to which Lady Sansa agreed. Davos decided his next step is to find Gendry, let the boy know he’s now the head blacksmith of Winterfell.

Just outside the armoury, he found Tyrion and Brienne, waiting for him.

“Ser Davos, our horses are ready near the East Gate,” said Brienne.

“Thank you Lady Brienne, but I need to see the smith, Gendry before I go. You two go, I’ll be there in a moment.”

Davos made his way towards the smithy when he saw, what looked like Gendry in an embrace with a young dark haired woman at the far end of the stables. He couldn’t see her face, but it didn’t matter. The fool has only been here for a couple of hours at most, to hug a stranger is uncalled for. He swore under his breath as he picked up his pace. Gendry seeing the fast approaching knight, worried he quickly let go, while the young woman swiftly turned around.

“Arya, No!” yelled Gendry.

To Davos’ surprise, he felt a dagger pressed to his throat as he looked into those grey Stark eyes. After a pause, the dagger retreated back into its sheath as quickly as it appeared. After a few moments to process the shock, Davos spoke.

“My Lady, I am Ser Davos of House Seaworth. I am a friend of your brother, King Snow.”

“I apologise, Ser Davos,” replied Arya, “Gendry looked frightened, so I assumed the worst.”

“Not to worry,” he said, rubbing his neck. Davos’ eyes wandered to the horse behind them, all saddled up and ready to go. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but are you going somewhere?”

“Please, just call me Arya, and yes. I going south to protect Jon from Cersei.”

Davos looked to Gendry to see that he was just as surprised as Davos felt.

“I don’t mean to tell you what to do but Jon has said for you to remain here. In Winterfell, with your family.”

Arya opened her mouth to resist but Davos beat her to it.

“I never knew your father. Jon told me once that your father found him and your other brother, Robb fighting, a couple of weeks after you were born. Apparently, it was an all-out brawl, but Jon doesn’t remember what it was about. It had just rained, so your brothers had mud all over themselves along with some cuts and bruises. Your lord father ushered them into the kitchen and sat them right beside the fire while he cleaned them up. He said, _‘The two of you are brothers. Winter is coming, so you two must stand together. Help one another. Don’t tear each other down. Be an example to your sisters’_ ” Davos looked at the young Stark and made his final remarks, “Stay here with your sister. Stand together and help each other. I also know a young lady who wishes to wield a sword the way you do. You could stay and train her too.”

After a long wait, Arya unsaddled her horse and left to return her belongings to her room. As she walked away, Davos looked at Gendry. The lad’s entire face turned a light shade of pink with his eyes cast downwards.

“So that’s why you couldn’t keep your mouth shut about your father to Jon. You fancy her?”

“I don’t fancy her.” Gendry retorted turning a shade pinker.

“Oh. You don’t, do you? You love her? Want to marry her?”

Gendry refused to answer and walked past him, back to the smithy. Davos chuckled as he turned to walk after him. Best to tell him what his role is here and what his first tasks are before he refuses to listen at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up at the end of Sansa and Tyrion meeting Ser Davos in the courtyard after breakfast.  
> Also,  
> Don't you think Davos would adopt all the orphans of Westeros if he could?  
> He's like the ultimate surrogate father to literally every orphan he meets.  
> And,  
> Thank you, Thank you, THANK YOU! For your comments and kudos!  
> It really makes my day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again.  
> Thank you, THANK YOU for your comments and kudos!  
> Another new POV. She's my fave :)  
> Enjoy!!!

***Brienne***

The golden lion pommel shone and the patterns on the valyrian steel reflected back the blue in her eyes. As Brienne waited for Ser Davos and Lord Tyrion by the horses, she found herself inspecting Oathkeeper. Podrick had offered time and time again to clean and care for her sword and as her squire, she should have let him. But she couldn’t. Brienne did it herself. She had an attachment to the sword now which she would have once thought was quite foolish. Yet, Ser Jaime had given it to her. When Jaime first gave her the sword to hold, it had been the first time she had held valyrian steel weapon. She was taken back by its beauty, the lightness of the type of blade was something she had heard about as a child but never had the fortune to behold. As she turned to inspect both sides of the blade now, she still marvelled at its beauty.  Returning the sword to its scabbard, her heart beat quickened as she realised that she’d see Ser Jamie once again.

The snow storm had gradually picked up after they broke fast this morning. There was constant movement in the courtyard, people moving about to keep busy and to keep warm. Brienne didn't mind the cold. Yes, it was confronting at first but just like the northerners, she became more alert and eager to work. However, the snow would make the journey to White Harbour difficult, twice as long as it would’ve taken in the summer. Hopefully, the winter winds should help their sail down to King’s Landing and make up for the time they would travel on horseback.

“Jon wants me to stay. Otherwise, I would’ve left for King’s Landing already.”

Brienne turned to find Arya standing behind her.

“I must say that I agree with your brother,” replied Brienne, “Lady Sansa needs your protection, even if she doesn’t want it. Cersei must still want her head so what’s stopping her from sending a cut throat.”

Arya nodded in agreement, just as Podrick approached carrying the last of the supplies. Both Arya and Brienne watched as he securely fastens the horses and returns to them.

“My lady,” Pod nodded to Brienne, “My lady,” Pod nodded to Arya.

“Really?” exclaimed Arya with a slightly annoyed look, “If you want to continue sparing with me after Brienne’s gone, you need to stop calling me that.” Both Pod and Brienne glanced at each other with smiles on their faces. “Besides, you might need to step in to spar with Lady Mormont as I train her.”

“Very well,” Pod replied, “Then may I take my leave to go prepare the sparring swords?”

“I’ll go find Lady Lyanna,” said Arya.

Both Arya and Podrick nodded to Brienne in farewell and walked towards the armory.

“Podrick,” Brienne called out. Podrick turned, “I expected you to fight like a knight when I return.”

With a smile on his face he turned back towards the armoury, just as Ser Davos, Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa entered the courtyard from near the armoury. A brief exchange happened between Tyrion and Podrick that also included a long handshake between the pair.  Again, Tyrion resumed his path towards horses and party of three now waiting for him, eyeing Brienne as he approached.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, my lady,” said Tyrion, “Shall we begin?”

Brienne and Ser Davos mounted their horses and approached the opened East Gate, with Dothraki horde waiting just outside. Brienne looked over her shoulder to see Tyrion upon his horse, speaking to Sansa. Then Sansa extended her hand to hold his and with that Tyrion placed a kiss upon her hand, smiled and rode out of Winterfell.

Men, women and children in winter town either watched or hid in fear as the party of a hundred or so rode through the small streets. Brienne also observed how the Dothraki moved. Brienne once overheard Renly speak of the horselords across the Narrow Sea, fierce warriors that raid villages and take slaves as they pleased. Now, these men shivered in the cold, not caring of the village they ride through. On the outskirts of the town, Tyrion caught up to ride alongside her.

“They’re different from what you expected?” asked Tyrion.

“They are,” she answered, “It seems that they aren’t fond of the cold.”

“Well of course not. Where they come from, the Dothraki sea has much warmer climate. I believe it is similar to the weather in Dorne.” Tyrion smiled. A pause before he asked another question, “I don’t think my brother ever mentioned me while you travel together?”

“He mentioned very little. Yet, Ser Jaime did talk of you fondly.”

“Not anymore,” sighed Tyrion, “You must have heard that I killed my father.”

Brienne could not reply. Yes, she had heard. It was all people could talk about. In every inn, tavern or village that she and Podrick passed through for their journey north, it had someone talk about the imp, the kin slayer and the bounty placed upon his head by Cersei.  She never thought about why he did. But from what Jaime told her during their journey to King’s Landing, Tywin Lannister mistreated Tyrion as a child and she could only assume the same abuse continued through his adulthood.

They rode in the silence for a long while. The sky soon turned dark and the road ahead was only lit by the flame torches they carried. Brienne could barely make out Tyrion’s eyes wandering to Oathkeeper, kept securely by her side.

“My brother give you that sword?” he asked.

“Yes, it was given to help protect the Stark daughters. Although I don’t believe Arya needs protection,” she answered with a smile. Tyrion chuckled.

“I agree, my lady. But I believe Sansa is stronger too. More than anyone believes her to be.”

“You have a lot of faith in her,” stated Brienne.

“I do. I always did,” said Tyrion in admiration, “When Joffery refused to let her leave King’s Landing, she was a beautiful lone wolf caught in the lion’s den. Yet she kept her head held high and never faltered a step.”

“I beg your pardon, my lord and my lady. But there are some abandoned homes up ahead. We could camp there for the night and leave before first light tomorrow,” informed Ser Davos.

The next day Brienne found herself riding next to Tyrion again.

“I met your father once. Selwyn Tarth. A good man. He had come to King’s Landing to watch the tourney held in honour of the Greyjoy Rebellion victory. We talked for a long while, even mentioned you a number of times.”

“I believe he was trying to enforce a betrothal, my lord”

“Ah yes, I thought as much. With no offence to you, my lady, I told him I wouldn’t want any lady to have me as a husband. It would have been a terrible burden. He respected my decision and still invited me to visit Tarth. Do you miss home?”

“I do,” said Brienne, “I miss my father too. But the Starks have invited me into their home and I feel through their kindness and hospitality, Winterfell has become a second home to me.”

Over the horizon, pale white walls and buildings seemed to rise up from the snow as they approached. They had made White Harbour in good time. Their approach to the dock was followed by weary eyes of the townspeople, even the beggars and women of the main brothel ran into buildings fearing the party as they passed.

“To be honest my lady, even though I arranged this meeting, I feel almost certain that we are going to be walking straight into a trap.”

Brienne looked towards Tyrion to see the apprehension in his eyes. She too had an uncomfortable feeling residing in her stomach. They dismounted their horses, gathering their things and boarded the ship, now bound for King’s Landing.

“Then we must be prepared. How do you fight, my lord?” queried Brienne.

Tyrion laughed.

“With a tall glass of wine in my hand and with biting words thrown back and forth across a table.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note:  
> I will try and post a new chapter every week.  
> But I can't make any promises... Writing was never my forte during school.  
> Hope you enjoyed this one and if there are any interactions you want to see, just let me know in the comments!  
> I'll try to squeeze them in :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> Please forgive me. I do not know how to write a sword fight.  
> But I think this is my favourite chapter that I have written so far.  
> With that,  
> Enjoy! :)

***Arya***

They were out in front of the smithy, training. Arya stood by and watched as the little Lady Lyanna spared with Podrick. Even with Podrick towering over her, her moves were as strong and steady as a bear, responding to his every move. Their sparring swords clacked together, gradually falling into a predictable beat. Arya worried. It was good to learn combinations. Yet, if the combinations become habits, the surprise blows from real enemies can be fatal.

Arya stepped forward and Podrick lowered his sword, turning towards her. Unguarded, Lyanna whacked Podrick behind his knees with her sword.

“Ow!” exclaimed Podrick as he fell onto the snow covered ground.

Lyanna smiled. A snigger came from within the smithy. Arya turned back to the sound and narrowed her eyes at Gendry. The smirk didn’t leave his face. She rolled her eyes and then faced Podrick who was slowly getting to his feet.

“I’ll spar with Lyanna for a bit. You take a break Podrick,” ordered Arya. He bowed his head and went to a makeshift bench at the edge of the smithy. Leaning against it was his newly castle forged sword that Gendry had made a couple of days ago. He pulled out a wet stone and began to sharpen its edge.

Lyanna nervously turned the sparring sword around in her hand and her eyes glittered with excitement. Since the beginning of their training lessons less than a week ago, Arya knew that Lyanna desperately wanted to spar with her. However, Arya didn’t. She needs to watch her spar with another. To see the ways she moved, how she held her stance and what she did when under pressure. Only then could Arya really teach her. Or at least she hoped. Her hand covered Lyanna’s sword hand and tighten her grip.

“If you spin the sword in your hand, you’re more likely to drop it,” said Arya and then she echoed something she learned many years ago, “Your grip must be delicate, but not too tight. Remember what I said when you first began to spar with Podrick. The sword is an extension of your arm.” Lyanna nodded and Arya let go. She picked up the sparing sword dropped by Podrick earlier.

“What combination will we be practicing?” Lyanna asked.

“No combinations,” replied Arya, “Your aim is to strike me.” With that, both stood side faced and their swords pointing towards each other.

Lyanna made the first move. She charged. Arya stepped to the side and disarmed her as she passed. The little lady spun and looked at her sword lying in the snow. Arya picked up the sparing sword and threw it at her. Lyanna caught it and resumed her initial stance.

Again, Lyanna made the first move. Arya’s footwork was no match for the lady.

One. Two. Three. Arya’s sword touched Lyanna’s stomach.

“Dead,” said Arya with a small smile. She stepped back and they began again.

One. Two.

“Dead,” repeated Arya, now the sword pressed to the back of Lyanna’s neck. When Arya stepped back, she saw a determination grow in Lyanna’s eyes.

One. Two. Three. Clack. Their swords met. Clack. Clack.

“Dead.” Arya’s sword was against arm right beside her heart.

The sparring continued between Arya, Lyanna and even Podrick until Sansa appeared in the yard when the evening air was colder and the night’s darkness fell.

“Food will be laid out in the Great Hall within the hour,” informed Sansa “Perhaps that’s enough training for the day?”

Arya looked at her sparring partners.

“You both did well today, tomorrow again at midday,” said Arya, and then turned to her sister, “I’m not hungry, I’ll eat later in the kitchen.”

Sansa, Podrick and Lyanna walked away silently. Arya picked up the sparring swords from the ground and lit the torches across the yard. She saw Gendry approaching her, carrying a newly forged sword with an unusual shine.

“What did you use to make that blade?” Arya asked curiously, as she turned the sword back and forth to inspect it.

“It’s mainly dragonglass but I added steel to stop it being so brittle. I couldn’t put too much though. Otherwise, it’d be useless against the wights,” replied Gendry.

Arya looked up to see him staring right at her, their noses were almost touching.  His eyes are so blue. It almost reminded her of someone else’s eyes but she couldn’t remember whose. She stepped back quickly, arm stretched out and the sword in between them. Gendry looked down at the sword and back at her.

“You think you could teach me how to use this?” he said with a smile as he took the sword from her hand. Arya could feel her heart beat quicken as she returned a smile.

“I thought you preferred a war hammer?” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his.

“You never know. Out there. A sword may help. May even save someone.”

“Hmmm. Alright.” She pulled Needle from its sheath. “How do you stand?”

“Side faced. Smaller target.”

“You remember?”

“I never forget my lady.”

Arya continued to pick on the little things. His grip, his footwork, his swings. Eventually, they swapped out their swords for wooden ones and began sparring. Gendry couldn’t seem to land a hit on her. He was slower than Arya but he was strong. Each time their swords collided, Arya was worried the wooden sword would snap into two.

“Let’s try again,” said Arya panting, “One more time.” Both their faces were flushed, from the exhaustion and the cold. He stood tall, wiping the sweat from his sword hand onto his clothes. His shadow from the lit torches danced on the snow, even though he stood still. They raised their wooden swords again and they waited for the other to make the first move, as the wind slowly began to pick up around them.

Gendry lunged forward. Their swords collided. Four, maybe five times. Arya used her sword to push his away. She ducked under his arm as he tried to grab her. Now behind him, Arya attempt to hit his shoulder but his sword already there. He spun around and pushed her sword away. He lunged again. She side stepped and disarmed him but suddenly fell. Gendry had kicked her as she passed. She grabbed onto his sleeve and he fell with her onto the snow.

He was on top of her. They were both panting, little clouds forming between them. Her back felt the cold of the snow as she noticed him slowly move his head closer. His breath was warm on her face and their noses were just as close as before.

“A girl has become distracted.”

Arya’s heart dropped while she and Gendry quickly rose to their feet and saw who spoken those words.

“What in seven hells is he doing here?” Gendry whispered for only Arya to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the ending you were expecting, right?  
> Hehehe.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pardon my language in this one, folks. But it was necessary (and hopefully not overdone).  
> Thank you again for your Kudos and Comments! That was a crazy sixth chapter, eh?  
> Keep them coming through. It really puts a smile on my face.  
> Enjoy :)

***Sandor***

He felt the last of the ale trickle down his throat.  The ship rocked gently from side to side as he stood from the stairs and took a step forward into the darkness. Still holding the bottle by the neck, Sandor wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He needed a drink if he was going to step foot on the shores of shit again. With one long swing, he threw the bottle at the wooden box. As the glass shattered, the box began to shake and muffled screams escaped through its cracks.

 It wasn’t going to work. He knew that for sure. Yet all these idiots think this thing will scare the shit out of the Lannister Queen.  Enough to get a truce. He thought of Joffrey, and how the blonde cunt would have pissed in his pants at the sight of this thing. He would have sailed right across the Narrow Sea with his tail between his legs. No truce. He’d just leave, likely with the Lannister army.  However he couldn’t say the same about the Queen. From what Beric had said during their journey to the wall, Sandor knew the bitch had no sanity left after her little boy died. So here they were now, sailing straight into the Lannister’s trap. Sandor looked at the large wooden box again and spat on the floor in front of it.  

 “What are you doing?”

He looked over his shoulder to find Jon standing on the bottom step. He noticed his stature, the same as his late lord father. These Starks are as cold as ice, Sandor thought, just as their father was.

 “Making sure the fucking thing isn’t dead,” Sandor replied. “You want something?”

“Nothing,” said Jon, “We’ll be at the harbour within the hour.”

Jon turned to go back up the stairs when Sandor called out.

“We are walking straight into their trap. Those fucking Lannister cunts.”

Jon turned.

“I know.”

“Oh, do you now?” Sandor remarked, “So you were there when Ilyan Payne chopped off your father’s head? Because the honourable Ned Stark needed to let everyone know that Joffrey was illegitimate. Or when Joffrey let Meryn Trant strike and almost strip your sister in front of the entire court? All because of the actions of your brother and his lady mother. Don’t get me started on what I have heard about that Lannister Queen and what did to the Great Sept?”

Sandor took a couple of steps towards him, to the point at which he towered over Jon. He continued his speech in a low growl.

“They are not of the forgiving kind. They don’t forget anyone who threatens them. Why do you think I’m not so keen to be walking in those streets again? Don’t assume that because the half-man listens to what you have to say, it will mean his sister will. It won’t do you no good”

“You don’t think I know that?” Jon pointed at the box and his voice slowly rose from a whisper. “I pray to the old gods and the new that the contents of that box will scare the shit out of everyone there today. Yes! I know. We are almost certainly walking into her trap. But we have no choice. Winter is here. That wight needs to prove that our fight isn’t with each other, it’s with the white walkers.”

A silence floated between them, occasionally interrupted by the bumps and muffled screams of the wight.

 “You remind me of your sister,” Sandor quietly laughed after a while.

“Sansa?” asked Jon, “How do y-“

“Not the little bird,” Sandor interrupted as he sat upon a barrel and looked up at Jon, who was still standing, “The wolf girl.” As those words left his mouth, Jon lowered himself on the steps and looked at Sandor expectantly. Sandor let out a long sigh and began to recount his journey with the little Stark. He left out some things but made sure to mention her sword and her stupid water dance. Jon remained silent. Sandor ended with the mention of his fight with Brienne and how Arya refused to give him the gift of mercy.

“She left me to die. Hated her for it. But I deserved it. I don’t know what happened to her after that.”

“You protected her?”

“I tried. In truth, I don’t think she needs protection.”

Jon put out his hand and Sandor took it, confused.

“She’s okay. She at Winterfell.” Jon smiled shaking Sandor’s hand. Sandor left an unfamiliar sense of relief wash over him.

“Sorry to interrupt this rather sweet bonding moment,” spoke Varys from the deck above, “But we will be docking shortly and we have a surprising welcome party.”

Sandor and Jon climbed the steps to the deck as the gangway was placed to join the ship with the dock. Their welcome party stood patiently on the dock.

“Brienne of Tarth,” Sandor whispered. Jon looked from Sandor to Brienne and back to Sandor. Sandor diverted his eyes back to Jon and with a grunt, he went below deck again, carrying a rope. Sandor returned moments later, after all on board had disembarked, with a box on his back and walked slowly down the gangway. As he loaded the box onto the cart, he saw from the corner of his eye Brienne approach him.

“Clegane.”

“Tarth.”

The party began to move, all falling into hushed chatter amongst themselves. Sandor could see the Imp waddling next to a balding man he had seen at the Wall.

“You came with the little Lord Lannister?”

“Yes, and Ser Davos Seaworth,” she replied pointing to the back of the balding man.

“Davos Seaworth? Wasn’t he Stannis’ Hand?”

“Yes, but now he’s sworn allegiance to Jon.”

“Allegiances are just horseshit.”

Brienne opened her mouth to argue but immediately thought the better of it. A silence fell between them. Sandor found his eyes wandering down to her sword. Same fucking sword. The Lannister gold pommel shone. Brienne looked at her sword as well.

“She’s alright. She’s at Winterfell.”

“I know. I suppose she found you or you found her. You protected her and took her home?”

“I wish I had. She made it home, on her own. Although from the sparring we have been doing before I left, she doesn’t need any protection. She’s protecting Sansa, while I’m here in my Lady’s stead.”

“Sansa.” Sandor said with a small smile, “I would have been happy to see the little bird again. I could have protected her too if she would have come with me.”

Brienne looked confused at his words.

“You knew Lady Sansa?”

“Aye, I knew her,” he replied. ~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just my opinion: I thought the way the Hound and Brienne met again in the show was perfection. No way I could top that little beautiful piece of writing. I just hope my meet can come close.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Thank you! Thank you for your kudos and comments! And an especially big thank you for your patience! I'm sorry it took so long to upload.  
> This was another favourite to write. It is heavily inspired by the events of the show, so quick disclaimer: I'm doing my own take on what happened in the show. Tweaking it to fit my story and line up to the way I would have liked to see done on the show.  
> With that being said, I hope you like this one.  
> Enjoy :)

***Jaime***

The shadows of the small clouds glided over the mapped floor of the courtyard. Jaime started to pace again. He followed the west coast, from Casterly Rock, past the Iron Islands and up to Bear Island. He looked down onto the floor and his eyes wandered back and forth from Winterfell and The Wall. Reports had come in sparingly about Ned Stark’s bastard sailing down from the Wall. Other reports say that he is coming from Dragonstone. However, the latter was very likely the rumours spread amongst the common folk of the Stormlands as a result of the new occupation of Dragonstone. Some Lannister loyalists stationed as spies in White Harbour spotted Tyrion boarding a ship. Jaime had received this news only yesterday. All these pieces were coming together and it had kept him up all night.

To his face, Cersei had promised that from her end, these talks with the Bastard and the Targaryen will be peaceful. For the sake of their unborn child, she had promised to do anything to protect their family and their legacy. Yet, he still worried at the prospect that all her enemies, many of whom she has tried to destroy in one way or another, will be in the same place and would cut her throat at the first chance they get.  

“Jon Snow and his party have just passed through the Mud Gate, Ser Jaime,” his young squire said. Jaime hadn’t heard the young boy come in, yet he didn’t look up at the sound of his voice. A shadow of a large cloud began to creep its way across the courtyard floor, covering the entire map above The Wall. It continues slowly down the map, until the whole floor was shaded from the sun.

Finally, Jaime looked up, to find his squire still standing at the edge of the map, beside the Tarth. Suddenly her blue eyes flashed before his eyes. He shook his head to clear his vision and looked at his squire. He had forgotten the boy’s name. He was the fourth boy to be plucked from one of the lesser known bannermen of House Lannister in the last couple of months. The first got cocky and tried to take on the Blackfish after Edmure’s surrendered of his ancestral home. The second died when the Targaryen’s dragon burnt him to dust along the Roseroad. Only the gods know where the third went. At the insistence of Qyburn, Jaime was given a fourth squire.

“Jon Snow has arrived, Ser Jaime,” repeated the squire, “Oh, and your brother arrived an hour before.”

“And I’m hearing of this, only now?”

“Sorry Ser but no-one could find you.” After a pause, the squire continued, “Queen Cersei is waiting for you in the throne room so she can be escorted down to the Dragon Pit.”

Jaime sighed. He began to move when his legs felt like lead. The lack of sleep had finally caught up with him. With what little energy he had, Jaime exited the courtyard with his squire trailing behind him.

When he arrived, he found Cersei seated upon the throne. She wore the same black dress in which she was coronated in. To her left, stood the Mountain. As tall and as terrifying as ever. To her right, stood Qyburn but he was facing his sister. Both seemed lost in conversation. They hadn’t noticed his arrival. Jaime nodded at his squire, to take his leave, and the young boy left without a sound. He began to walk slowly until he stood at the bottom of the steps, looking to the three standing high on their pedestals. Qyburn made a quick bow to Cersei and Jaime watched as he quickly walked out of the room, his steps echoing in the empty hall.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, dear sister,” Jaime spoke carefully, “Shall we begin to make our way?”

“No,” replied Cersei curtly, “We are waiting for another.”

“Who?” asked Jaime, slightly confused, “Qyburn? He just left?”

“No,” she repeated in the same manner as before, “Qyburn will be joining us at the Pit. We are waiting for Euron.”

Annoyed, Jaime began to climb the steps and stopped at a step before the landing because the Mountain had taken a step forward himself. Jaime could see his hand tighten around his long sword. Jaime looked back to Cersei to see her eyes staring right back at him.

“The Greyjoy? Why?” Jaime asked in disbelief, “There’s no need to have him there. These talks will not be as peaceful as you had hoped if he comes along.”

“He is the commander of my naval forces. He is our ally,” she replied. Jaime could see the annoyance also growing on her face. “We need to show strength, if we want the conditions of whatever outcome happens to be in our favour.” A long silence drew out between him. Finally, Cersei rose from her seat and walked until she was towering over him. She took a deep breath and pointed to the throne behind her. “That throne is mine! I will not have some Targaryen savage and a bastard take it away from me. So we must show our strength. Did you forget everything that father had taught us?”

To that, Jaime had no reply. After some silence had passed again, Cersei resumed her seat upon her throne. Her fingers tapped away on the points of the wrought swords of the throne as she stared at the large doors. Jaime now stood to her right and he also waited for the wretched Greyjoy to arrive.

They didn’t need to wait long. Greyjoy arrived and seemed to prance like a pony all the way to the foot of the stairs with a smile that almost looked cruel.

“My Queen!”Euron bellowed while he bowed deeply, “Everything is in order. Shall we go and meet those traitors?”

A smile grew on Cersei’s face as she rose from the chair.

“We shall,” she replied.

Jaime waited a breath before following. The Queen guards joined the walk from just outside the throne room’s doors. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as he followed. Just outside the entrance of the Dragon Pit, Jaime saw Qyburn talking to some Lannister men before sending them away when he saw them arriving.

“They are all inside, Your Grace,” Qyburn informed them.

Cersei nodded and began to walk again.

The large arena had been covered in red and gold Lannister banners. There were four guards at every entrance. The perimeter of the arena was lined with Lannister soldiers, armoured to their teeth and with either swords, daggers or spears at their belts. As they grew closer, Jaime noticed that both parties waiting for them and were watching them warily. He saw his brother, his bearded face grim and tired, seated next to an empty chair. Where was the Targaryen? His eyes wandered to the other side of the floor to see Jon Snow and…

Jaime felt his heart stop briefly. He might have faltered his steps too in a fleeting moment but no one around him had seemed to notice. Maybe no one except her. Those blue eyes were wide and staring straight at him as he walked past her. He imagined that if he had his right hand, he would have discretely reached out to her. She was so close. Instead, his golden hand lay still at his side.

Everyone was finally seated. A stillness fell across the arena.

“Where is the girl?” Cersei asked to no one in particular. Jaime knew her use of ‘the girl’ was an attempt to demean the Targaryen. He was still looking at Brienne when he noticed Jon shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“She’ll be here soon,” replied Tyrion. Jaime looked at his brother once more, when the Hound walked forward and stood in front of Cersei. He stared at her, there was a darkness in his eyes and made Jaime stand and take a step forward. Yet, the Mountain beat him to it. In black and silver armour, Gregor stood tall in front of his younger brother, forming a barrier in front of his queen.

“Ha. Surprised to see me?” asked Sandor. No reply came. “What did they do to you? Cut out your tongue?” The Mountain stood as still and as quiet as the statue. “You look uglier than I do, you fucking cunt. But we won’t be drawing our swords today. No. You’re on her list. She’d fucking kill me if I’d kill you first, without letting her have a turn.”

Jaime could only just hear the quiet threats the Hound had made before he marched off out of the arena. Who is she? What in seven hells would she have a list with Clegane’s name on it? The Mountain resumed his position behind Cersei, while Jaime remained standing. Jaime glanced at Cersei to see her eyes set on Brienne. Fucking Seven Hells, he thought as he took a quick glance between the two. He was left extremely uncomfortable to find both of them now staring right at him.

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath as he looked down to his feet.

Suddenly a loud collective gasp came from the Lannister soldiers.  Their eyes looking towards the cloudy sky. A large shadow covered a part of arena and a screeching roar came from the sky. Nearly all except Cersei stood to watch the dragon circle the arena. It looked as though it was circling its prey. It finally landed and a small figure dismounted from its back. With another sounding roar, it flew up and gathered up the dust. A thick cloud of gold created a curtain shielding her, yet she moved through it, towards them. Her silver-white hair was braided long and over her shoulder. She wore a blood red dress with a cape as black as the night sky. The Targaryen colours. Jaime had seen her father, mother and even her brothers’ wear those colours while they resided in court. It seemed over a hundred years since the Mad King was on the throne. Yet, Jaime did not miss those days, just as the past months had meant nothing to him except for his yet-to-born child.

She made her way to her seat beside Tyrion. As she was seated, her party and even Jon Snow and his companions took their seats. She turned her head towards Cersei and spoke.

“Apologies for my tardiness. Shall we begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonpit scene was pure gold on the show. I hope I did it justice!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyhey! Did you miss me?  
> Sorry, this one took SO LONG!  
> Please remember to hit that kudos button or talk to me in the comments! It really, REALLY makes my day!  
> Enjoy! :)

***Gendry***

He looked at Arya.  Her cheeks were no longer flushed, her skin was pale in dying glow of the torches. He watched as her hands slowly moved towards the valyrian dagger at her hip.

“A man does not come to the kill the girl. I come to talk.”

Gendry’s eyes darted back towards the hooded figure.

“Well Jaqen, if you really must talk to her, you will do it in front of me,” Gendry replied as he folded his arms across his chest. He could see the shadow of a smirk dance across Jaqen. Gendry, now puts himself in front of Arya, with the idea to protect her. Jaqen drew his hood down and stepped closer to the pair.

“A man is not Jaqen H'ghar. A man is no-one. I wish only to speak with Arya Stark.”

Gendry felt as clueless as the day Ned Stark walk into the shop to ask him all those questions. He was about reply when he felt a cold hand pressed against his lower back as Arya whispered, “It’s alright. He will keep his word.”

He turns back to find Arya looking up at him. He whispered back, “No, I need to know what’s go-”.

“It takes too long to explain everything,” she interrupted. Her teeth chattered. They had taken their coats off to spar but all the heat from their exchange had gone.

“Then tell me.” He turned back to Jaqen. “You got nowhere to be, right? And you won’t leave till you talk to her? So, Arya is to tell me everything I need to know and she’s going to take all the time she needs. Once, I’m satisfied. Only then, you can talk to the both of us.” Gendry didn’t wait for a reply as he grabbed Arya by the arm. He grabbed a horse’s blanket with his other hand which lay abandoned upon a fence, placed it around her shoulders and started to drag her towards the kitchens.

Gendry only took three steps when Arya broke free of his hold.

“Stop acting like a child!” Arya shouted as she clung to the blanket tightly.

“A child?” he asked in disbelief. A cold gust attacked him from behind. He must have looked visibly shaken because Arya approached him, spread the blanket out and wrapped it around his shoulders too. Gendry felt her warmth instantly, cocooned in their bubble.

“Seven hells, he just wants to talk. He is not going to kill me. Also, I can defend myself if he tries to anyway.”

“You are not going to talk to him alone. Please.”

Gendry saw the frustration on her face fade slightly. She grabbed his hand and they walked back towards Jaqen.

“Alright. You talk. We listen. You leave. Understood?” Arya demanded.

“Oh, we get to ask questions too,” added Gendry. Arya narrowed her eyes at him and he shrugged in response.”

“How many questions do you wish to ask? A man has only time for a few.”

“Fucking hells,” Arya whispered under her breath and spoke up when talking to Jaqen. “Three. We get to ask three questions. Say what you need to say already.”

“Very well. A girl once had a list of names on her list. To Bravos, this girl came to train. A girl became no-one and yet the girl returned home while her list remains incomplete. You have little time. There are two on your list who resides where our journey started. If a girl chooses to stay, a girl loses her chance.”

“Seven hells. You could make more sense you know! What names are you do you mean?”

“The girl knows the names.”

“Cersei and the Mountain,” confirmed Arya.

“Alright, what do you mean she has little time?”

“Talks in Bravos mentions the Lannister Queen hiring the Golden Company. Only rumours but if true, dangerous truths they become. No hope of reaching her when they land in Westeros.”

“Golden Company? You mean the army of hire from Essos? When do they arrive?”

“A girl has only question left. A man cannot answer all three. Pick only one, I will give you my answer and leave as requested.”

“When do they arrive?” repeated Arya.

“A man does not know a certain answer to this question. However, if a man was to guess, he believes the company will arrive within the month.” Jaqen paused before reaching his hand to move a strand of hair off Arya’s face. “Farwell Arya Stark.”

Jaqen pulled his hood back over his head and swiftly walks back towards the south gate. Gendry felt an anger bubble within him.

“What just happened?”

Arya turned back to him and grabbed the lapels of his shirt, the blanket precariously still around them. Seven Hells, all he wanted to do was kiss her. Yet before he could try, Arya began to whisper.

“You said you’d never leave my side, right?”

“Yes,” He whispered in reply.

“Then come with me to King’s Landing. You’ve taught all the other smiths about the dragonglass. Lyanna can spar with Podrick. And Sansa… she’ll be fine. She’s got Bran. Come with me? Please?”

“I’d go everywhere with you.”

Suddenly Gendry felt a warm pressure on his lips. Her chapped lips pressed against his while the strands of her hair tickled his face. They were warm and safe. And a quickly as they connected, her lips left his. He rested his forehead against hers.

A small smile formed on both of their faces.

“You ready the horses. I’ll get some food from the kitchen.”

She tore the blanket off Gendry and ran quietly towards the kitchen leaving him alone to reintroduce himself to the winter’s air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My reaction after reading this was:  
> 1) FINALLY!  
> and  
> 2) Don't leave! What happens if Jon comes back?
> 
> Do you feel me? And Yes, I read over my work and fangirl too!  
> I'm proud of my words!  
> Remember to comment/kudos! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Also, grammar/english is not my forte.  
> So feedback/kudos would be great.


End file.
